When you were smaller than the length of your mother's arm, you would close your eyes and place your index finger squarely on the map. You drew wild concentric circles, blindly cutting across the Pacific Ocean, sweeping through the Russian wheat fields, around the icy hills of Greenland, and into the green bays of Africa. After a deep breath you opened your eyes to your next adventure, and you would fly as far as your imagination could carry you to the unknown places on your tattered map.
words via paperface, photos via bing
You wrote this so beautifully!
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